Protective
by Azereaux
Summary: When Bro needs money, he turns to a seedy message left on his website. Dave, who is only ten, does not understand why Bro is so insistent on keeping him away from the man who wrote it. Underage, almost non-con. Originally for the Homestuck kink meme.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Originally written as a fill for the Homestuck kinkmeme. I lost track of my story from being away for so long due to school and some crazy writer's block, so to keep it linear I decided to upload it here for flow and organization.

* * *

It started off as something to get extra income to support himself and Dave. It was a simple task combining his favourite thing - puppets - and what the internet was made for - porn. In the beginning, Bro wasn't _particularly_ proud of it, but as time passed there were more subscribers, which meant more money. Suddenly he could buy Dave more things like new clothing, a better quality camera for himself to film, and instead of two meals a day (which was usually cheap take-out and leftovers) there were snacks in between. Slowly but surely it became his pride.

And someone else wanted it as his pride too. There, on his recent upload was a comment aside from the usual 'wish that puppet was me LOL':

_'nice videos u got some good stuff here i can help u out if you want just email me ur number and we can talk it out peace.'_

Instead of being excited, he was skeptical. First, the grammar was one you wouldn't expect from a business man. Secondly, it was a business deal over a porn site. Would it be safe to trust a random stranger? Would this guy be lying? He wasn't really sure. Investment was tricky thing, and Bro wasn't really sure if he could trust a random stranger with his money. He was thinking of just ignoring the comment altogether, do this the way he had always done - alone.

"Hey, what's for dinner?" Dave said, looking up for the first time in an hour from his grade four English workbook.

Bro shrugged. "Too busy working little man. Whatever's in the fridge today."

Dave groans, because he knows past the knives and swords, somewhere hidden deep the fridge is actual food. Behind Bro's back Dave gets up, and he can hear the small pit-pattering of Dave's feet, fridge opening and metal hitting the floor. Dave opens the microwave, removes the puppets and warms up his food.

"By the way, I have a field trip coming up," said Dave.

In the Strider household, every penny was saved. Field trips from school was one of the things they use to consider a small luxury because why waste twenty-five dollars for one day when that can buy some groceries? Now with the extra income it was possible for Dave to attend.

Bro's mind went back to the shoddy man's comment. What if this man could help him? Making the site itself was a risk he was jumping into and it had worked. Anything he could do to keep a roof over his head, feed himself and Dave, and give his little brother a good education. Besides, if the man tried anything funny he was pretty damn positive he could kick the guy's ass.

So he replied.


	2. Chapter 2

A week later Bro got a call from an unknown number. He was lounging around playing his video games when his cellphone rang.

"Hello?" Bro asked.

"You the owner of Plush Rump?"

"Yeah." His voice kept it's cool tone, but as soon as the question was posed his heart leapt up, suddenly hyper aware and trying to listen to every word the man had to offer.

"So, you interested? I can help you."

Bro shifted the phone from one ear to the other. "I know, I -"

"Where do you live?"

"What?"

"I'm not talking about specifics, at least not yet. Just what country - state, province, whatever you're in. I want to talk business. Person to person. So what is your answer."

_Pushy chucklefuck_, Bro thought, not liking the way this guy was already. He didn't want this opportunity to go to waste by being rude, but he didn't want to talk to this man any longer. The answer was short and sweet. "Yes I'm interested and I live in Houston, Texas."

The line was quiet for a moment. Bro wondered if he had said something wrong, but the man on the other side spoke up. "That's actually pretty close. You fine if we meet in three days? On Saturday."

_Meaning fitting to your schedule, and if I don't oblige then byebye deal_. "Yeah sure, that'd be great."

"What's the address." Bro hated how this man's tone was demanding. But he complied. "Perfect. See you soon."

And the line clicked.

Bro remembered one simple question as he listened to the beeping of the phone. _What time is the damn thing scheduled at?_

"Shit," Bro said, looking around at the copies of Game Bro and swords lying around. He thought he better start cleaning.


	3. Chapter 3

Since Wednesday Dave would come home from school and see Bro rushing around the house, arms full of puppets and stuffing them into whatever crevice he could find. The microwave was overflowing with more puppets than Dave thought it could hold, Bro stopped being stealthy and instead filled the crawlspace. One afternoon - as soon as Dave walked through the front door, about to complain about the intense amount of homework he had just received - Bro asked him if he could store the swords into his room.

"What for?" Dave inquired, alarmed at the way Bro had taken a complete flip. Everyday less and less puppets littered the floor, and the weapons had to leave too apparently.

"Someone's coming over and we can't have the place looking like this." Bro started collecting issues of GameBro and placed them neatly in a pile into a cardboard box.

"So like, you finally got a girlfriend or something?"

He gave Dave an unimpressed look. "It ain't anything like that. This guy could help us out. Hell, maybe if this deal falls through I can get you some new turntables."

Dave's face automatically lit up - as much as a cool, ten year-old could give out without looking dorky. "Seriously?"

"Seriously," Bro said, giving him a small smile. He knew he'd get the reply he wanted now. "So, you gonna help me or what?"

Dave dropped his backpack. "Okay, I'm in."

"Just make sure you finish your homework too, okay?"

He gave Bro a nod, then started collecting the fireworks, swords from the floor, and whatever other dangerous-this-doesn't-belong-in-the-kitchen items, promptly stuffing them into his room. He didn't even bother to ask who the man was.

OOOO

Some swords were allowed to stay in public view because they were mantled neatly onto the wall, the posters were stored in a pile inside the closet along the fireworks. It had been difficult because Bro and Dave didn't know how much stuff they had until it needed to be put into a proper place.

Bro picked up a shuriken and turned to Dave. "You know how much one of these costs?" Dave stopped picking up cherry bombs and looked at Bro.

"Five bucks?"

"Ten."

Dave looked at all the weaponry littered on the floor, trying to locate more shuriken. "How many do we got?"

Bro shrugged. "About ten? Fifteen of them?"

"For a pack of them, or individually?"

"Individually."

Dave's ten year-old brain was trying to calculate the price. When he reached the cost, his eyes widened behind his shades. "Over a hundred bucks on those little stars - are you _serious_. We should have used that money to buy something useful or I dunno, _some food_."

He curtly returned to picking up cherry bombs from the floor. Bro, still flipping the shuriken in his hand, could catch the subtle shift in the atmosphere from the way Dave would pick them up quicker as if he wanted to get this over with. Bro suddenly felt a little regretful about bringing the topic up.

"You could borrow these if you want." No response.

"Any dicks in your classroom, you could whip one of these out and scare the kid." Still nothing. An awkward silence hung. Bro was trying to think - what made Dave respond? Thankfully, it didn't take long to remember the answer so the subject wouldn't descend into l'esprit d'escalier. _Kid looks up to me. What I do, he wants in._

"I could teach you how to use these." As expected, Dave looked up. His lips were still pursed, but Bro thought it was an improvement and used this opportunity.

"I'm serious about it. Think of it as an alternative to the sword. Like multi-classing."

Dave contemplated a bit. "Can you?"

"Yeah, for sure," Bro said.

Finally Dave gave a small smile. He was silent for a moment before answering back, "This stuff _is_ pretty cool anyways."

Bro placed the shuriken back onto the counter. "That's what I thought when I got 'em." He walked over to Dave and started helping him clean up. "I lied about bringing them to school though. Do that and the principal will be the least of your worries."

He gave Bro a look that said 'you didn't need to tell me' and replied with, "Obviously." He returned his attention back to the task.

"So how much are these?" Dave asked, rolling one of the bombs in his hand.

Bro gave a smirk to himself. "I had to go through hell just to get them. You see, these are illegal."

Dave picked up the buster sword. "And this," he said, "is the biggest piece of crap I've ever seen."

"It was an impulse buy," Bro said back, "and don't say crap until you're eleven."

So the game began. Dave would ask how much this or that was, and Bro would make him guess until he got tired of guessing and just told him. The cleaning went by faster than they had expected.

Within three days, the house was presentable. No more puppets littered the ground, and the exterior looked neat. Just as long as the fridge, microwave, closet door, and Dave's room was kept shut nothing looked out of order. It bothered Dave just a little bit, this big difference, and he wasn't sure if the puppets on the floor freaked him out more than the place actually looking ordinary. But as a cool kid, he just rolled with the punches.

Bro was expecting the man any time now. He felt relieved that he had managed to finish everything for Saturday, but it sucked that he didn't have an approximate time when he would arrive. He told himself to be alert, what kind of a deal could you make with a person that you didn't know the name of? But he had already sealed his fate and all he could do wait.

"If this man doesn't show up, we're going to give him a beat down. Right Lil' Cal?" He said to the puppet laid down beside him on the futon. It stared at Bro with its glassy eyes, taking it as a yes.


	4. Chapter 4

Saturday morning passed quickly, and so did the afternoon. The evening was now settling into the apartment, the sun casting an orange glow across the floor and the buildings outside becoming silhouettes. Anxiety curled and formed little knots inside his stomach. He could hardly eat and he had very little sleep. Where was the man?

Earlier on in the day Lil' Cal had been put back into the safety of his chest. When Dave realized this, he replaced him on the futon beside Bro. Dave flipped through the channels, making little remarks on the programming of each station that appeared on the television before finally stopping to watch Mean Girls.

"For ironic value," Dave said. They muted the television, and started to dub over the dialogue. It had helped Bro ease some of the worry inside for a bit. They got lazy after a while and decided to watched the movie normally but Bro only half-listened, his mind was elsewhere. When the film finished, the man still hadn't arrived. Some minutes later, Dave got bored and left to his room.

Now he sat alone.

When Dave was around, Bro didn't dare to show nervousness. Now, he couldn't stop fidgeting with the edge of his gloves. He tapped out beats with his fingers, bounced his leg up and down on his toes. The clock in the house was noiseless, but Bro could hear an imaginary _tick tock tick tock_ in his head.

The sun had fully set. The buildings outside had their lights on, creating their own stars in a moonless, blackened sky. He looked at the time on the microwave.

"Nine o'clock," Bro said out loud.

The anxiety found its way back with new vigour and mixed inside was a small tendril of anger. His face was still stoic, but he was now imagining many ways how to hurt this nameless, faceless man. He had made Bro put away his all puppets, caused Dave to be put in a dangerous situation with countless swords in his room because of the lack of actual storage space in the apartment, and didn't bother to schedule a time - which made Bro waste countless hours sitting and staring into space.

So ensnared in his own thoughts he missed the first door knock. Then the second. He just barely heard, "If you're not there, I'm leaving and takin' all my fuckin' money with me. I got shit to do, I can't waste my time waiting."

It snapped him back to reality. Bro got up from his spot and quickly made his way to the door, placed his hand on the knob and turned it. _How ironic_, he thought,_ that he can't wait five seconds for me, and I spent hours waiting for him_. As if he didn't know already, this man was no good.


	5. Chapter 5

On the opposite side of the door, the man now kept quiet, but as each second ran by Bro could feel the mounting tension through the old wood and chipping white paint of the door. There were two locks and his fingers made a quick scramble over the cold metal of them both.

He tried to appease the man by acknowledging his presence. "Yeah, sorry man. Just got to get the locks open." The man made no effort to reply back. When he got the last lock opened, Bro grabbed the round, brass knob as swift as he could and turned it, yanking the door open.

What he saw on the other side of the door wasn't what he expected.

When they were setting up the 'details' of the rendezvous on the phone, Bro had made assumptions based on the voice. It had been deep and sounded grating like running over a floor of pebbles, while talking like he owned the place. Who Bro was currently staring at did not meet up to the 'gruff' expectations he had assumed to encounter. Maybe a broad shouldered, small, middle-aged fat man who smoked too much. Maybe a forty year-old slob with a wife beater, and stains on his faded blue jeans and stains on his use-to-be-white sneakers.

Instead of fat and squat or small and buff, he was the exact opposite. A tall and lanky body frame, with short brown hair and a noticeable bald patch appearing on the crown of his head. He looked to be about his mid-forty's, the only assumption Bro had gotten right. He wore silver wire framed glasses and a light blue golf shirt. Dark blue jeans and scuffed brown dress shoes. In his hand was a case of beer.

"About time, eh?" The man had said without a trace of humour in his voice. His eyebrows were raised and his mouth was neither in a frown nor a smile.

"Yeah, sorry about that. Locks got kinda stuck." The man only grunted in reply, and gave Bro a questioning look that said, _you going to let me in_?

Bro got the message and stepped to the side. The man kept silent as he walked past Bro without giving him any acknowledgment and swiveled his head around as he inspected the room, looking at the (uncharacteristically) clean kitchen and the futon where Bro slept - where Lil' Cal sat. The man nodded his head in approval, but approval of exactly what Bro didn't know. He then placed the case onto the kitchen counter, turned to Bro and held out his hand. "I'm Kyle, by the way."

"Name's Bro."

Secretly he was slightly upset that the unpleasant man didn't have an equally unpleasant name. Still, Bro walked forward, reached out and shook hands with Kyle, even giving a small nod in acknowledgment, a courtesy that Kyle did not return.

After their official greeting Kyle turned his attention to the beer on the counter. He opened the case and took a bottle out. He slid one over to Bro and opened another for himself. "Take one, my treat."

He opened it, cracking the cap off on the counter and raised it slightly in honest gratitude – if he was to be stuck with Kyle for a while, every drink helped. They both took a swig before placing their bottles back on the counter, Bro deliberately putting it over the small stain he was so oddly conscious of. He guessed his cleaning wasn't as thorough as he believed.

"Pretty nice place you got," Kyle said, trying to break the 50 feet of ice between them.

Bro replied, "Well, fits my needs. Could be a little better but you got to deal with the shit you're handed." Kyle chuckled a bit. Their conversation had now stopped just as suddenly as it started.

Outside, the rough hum of the cars could be heard as they filed down the road. The wind could be heard running into the surrounding buildings, passing through hanging signs and rattling them on their supports. Outside, there didn't need to be a crowd of people on the streets to make noise.

Inside this little room, located in another generic apartment, two people stood unable to face or speak to the other. The silence hung like a fog, thick and heavy in the air. They sipped slowly to conserve the alcoholic lifeline that made a psychological barrier between total discomfort and themselves. The sound of a bottle being hit a bit too hard against the counter had made a clearing in the quiet, and Kyle took the opportunity to speak.

"Okay," he said, all fake politeness was out of his voice. Bro turned his head towards Kyle and what he was seeing now could be the person he had talked to over the phone: with a thin, unsmiling mouth and hard, piercing eyes. Now he looked like a business man, even in his blue jeans and grandpa polo-shirt. The serious atmosphere was infectious, and Bro straightened himself up, hearing the phrase he waited for all day. "Let's talk about money."


	6. Chapter 6

When Dave got to his room, he promptly went straight to bed for a nap. He took off his shades and placed them on the bedside table which made a dull clink as it hit against the wooden top. Lying on the top of the sheets, Dave stared at the ceiling of the darkened room for quite some time just listening to the sound of nothing but the passing cars outside the window and the rushing wind. Slowly his eyelids began to feel heavy and every blink lasted a second longer than the last. Sluggishly, he turned his head to the side and the very last thing he saw was the red glare of the time on the clock. _Fifteen minutes to nine_... then Dave fell asleep.

OOOO

There was a mumbling sound from beyond his bedroom door that woke Dave up. That's when he knew the man had arrived and Bro hadn't been played the fool.

He tried to make words out of the voices, but as much as he strained his ears it never made any sense. Curiosity made him uncomfortable laying on the bed and his body tingled with anticipation to know what was happening. He sat up and reached for his shades on the table, put them on and placed his feet slowly onto the floor just in case he might step on something. He tip-toed across the objects scattered around him, pushing objects away from his path lightly with his foot, remembering not to accidentally kick a blade, and when he reached the door he pressed his ear against it.

He could tell Bro's voice: deep, strong and a very slight drawl from the foreign one. It too sounded deep, but it wasn't strong as much as it was loud and unlike Bro whose voice was smooth, this man had a small rasp as if he'd been a chain smoker for the majority of his life. They were both talking sharply at one another, tones rising - then suddenly the conversation died down. A thunk against the counter, a short quip from the man was said and Bro giving a short laugh.

They resumed the conversation. Dave had his ear against the door for a couple of minutes and though the words sounded sharper, it still wasn't coherent enough. The curiosity was tingling at his nerves again. Very slowly he opened the door, a crack of light peaking into his room as he tried to make as little noise as possible. Dave felt as if he was intruding on something private though he never was explicitly told to stay away.

"People pay money to watch this, y'know? It's a pretty fucking small niche and you've got the monopoly on it."

"That's why I'm making all the cash. No one else is willing to."

Dave pushed his door open wide and crept down the hallway, mindful to prevent casting a telltale shadow of his presence. Right beside the kitchen he stayed pressed against the wall, sitting in a position that allowed him to rest his chin on his knees, fingers playing with the fabric of his pants.

"I mean, have you ever thought about branching out a bit? Trying something else?"

"Kyle, if it ain't puppets then it ain't worth my time. I got no muse for anythin' else." _Bro's a little drunk_, thought Dave, _he doesn't slur words this much_.

"That's fine by me if you don't want my help."

There was that silence again, except it lasted longer. Dave could hear the shuffling of feet and thought the conversation would no longer progress at this point. He made a movement to push himself up from the floor and go back to his room unnoticed, but his elbow hit hard against the wall and it made him inhale sharply. His little game of spy was over; he was caught by the enemy.

"Dave?"

"Who?"

"He's my 'lil brother," Bro said to Kyle. "Come out if yer there, an' I sure as hell know you are."

Dave was biting his lower lip, contemplating if he should just ignore whatever Bro said and go back to his room or step out into the light. The first option he knew he wouldn't get away with, but it still felt a little bad to be caught, like he lost the little game he was playing with himself in his mind.

"Yeah, I'm here." He stepped into the kitchen, keeping a poker face as he looked at Kyle. As soon as Kyle saw Dave his face stopped being stern.

"That's you're little brother?"

Bro was hunched over the counter and on picking at the small stain when he said, "Yep. That's Dave."

"Well hello there Dave, how old are you?"

"Ten."

"Wow, you're so small. Do you want a beer?" Bro stopped focusing on the stain and looked up at Kyle.

Quickly Dave replied, "If you're still around after ten years ask me again. Maybe we don't have to get into crap with the law."

Kyle chuckled. "God, he's like a miniature version of you." Dave wasn't sure if he was flattered or not.

"Who _are_ you?"

Kyle smiled. "I'm just a friend of your brother's." Dave slowly nodded his head at the response. "Wow, look at the time. Half past ten. Looks like I gotta go."

He passed by Dave and Bro, who was still leaning over the counter, to the door leading outside of the apartment. Since Kyle offered Dave a beer, Bro had been watching him. He broke his silence before Kyle walked out.

"This means deal gone?"

Kyle stood in front of the door and appeared to be in thought. "Hmm... no it doesn't. How about we set up another date? Tomorrow and we can negotiate something if you still feel up to it."

"Sure."

"Good. Bye. And bye to you too, Dave." The door shut. When the footsteps outside grew faint, Dave spoke up.

"Is that who you were waiting for all day?"

"Yeah. One helluva dude right? Kyle." He slide his empty beer bottle across the counter into the corner where more sat. "Did you know I drank most of these? Goddamn guy..."

Dave was confused. "Why? He didn't seem that bad."

"Don't ask. I ain't discussin' him right now."

"I don't see why-"

"_Dave_, I said I ain't talkin' about him right now. Go back to bed."

Dave opened his mouth to argue, but stopped himself from even saying the first word. In the morning he'd ask about Kyle. He knew it would be useless to talk to Bro right now, so he just did as he was told. When he reached the doorway he could see some swords gleam on his floor from the artificial light cascading down the hall.

Before he could take a step into his room he heard Bro say, "Dave?"

"Yeah?" He responded back.

"Don't say crap until you're eleven."


	7. Chapter 7

When Dave walked into the kitchen, Bro was hovering over the stove. Beside him on the counter were two plates, each with toast.

"About time Sleeping Beauty," Bro said without looking up. He was instead cracking four eggs into the frying pan. "Thought I would've had to kiss you awake."

"Yeah well, I didn't expect to find Cinderella fussing around in my kitchen either."

Dave walked until he was beside Bro and looking at the frying pan. "What?" Bro asked.

"Where did you get the food? I didn't think we had room in the fridge for anything."

"Went out to the store and bought a small carton of eggs and bread. Just enough for today."

The sound of the sizzling made him feel hungry, but his appetite plummeted when he remembered what it meant whenever Bro made breakfast. He wasn't sure if he was ready yet, especially since he hadn't been practicing. Bro just had to announce his concerns out loud.

"I know we've been slacking off, for two weeks now really, and I believe we got to get you back into shape." He flipped the eggs.

"I also believe that we shouldn't because you don't know when Kyle's coming back today. You keep forgetting to ask him about time."

Bro snorted. "That kind of person doesn't arrive until you drag your tired ass to bed. Nine o'clock at night makes you feel like they forgot about it. Then the doorbell rings and you're already all warm and tucked in."

"Well," Dave said, "I don't feel like he's too bad."

"You weren't with him for an hour and a half." Bro slid two eggs onto each plate. "Now eat up, you need to get your energy back, especially since we've been slacking –"

"_Especially_ since Kyle –"

"- and I don't want you to be rusty when you turn let's say... about thirteen."

Dave poked at the yolk of the egg then turned to face Bro. "Is this because Kyle's here now?"

"Dave, I don't want to talk about him."

"We were just talking about him. You _told_ me to ask later and now I am."

Bro rubbed the bridge of his nose and inhaled deeply. "Dave, when I said later I didn't mean now-later."

"Well... I'm not that hungry."

"I want you to eat. I can't have you fainting on me or puking all over the rooftop."

"But I said I'm not hungry. I can't eat if I'm hungry or I would just puke it all up. My stomach already feels full and I can't put anymore stuff into it."

"Holy shit Dave – eat the eggs. Eat the toast. Don't be such a wise guy. And I mean eat them now, not later."

Dave picked up the piece of toast and used it to puncture the yolk. Bro nodded his head in approval as Dave nibbled on the edge, satisfied he at least got him to eat. He began working on his own food. He put one egg onto the bread, folded it up and popped it in his mouth in one bite. Dave stopped eating, his hand still holding onto the bread in midair, and just stared at Bro.

Bro swallowed and looked back at him. "What? Gotta eat fast kid. I want to see you on the roof in an hour."

"It doesn't take an hour to eat all of this."

"But you need to let your stomach digest it. I don't want to see bacon bits on the roof."

"We don't have bacon."

"I know you know it was just an example smart ass. You're just still pissed at me. Take it out with your sword Dave, not in the kitchen."

OOOO

Dave could feel the sweat beading down his forehead. They had been at strife for hours, but the only one who felt the strain was Dave. His breathing was laboured and his arms felt as if they each weighed twenty pounds whenever he lifted them over his head to try and land a strike. The hot, Texan heat was getting to him and his shirt clung to his skin because of the sweat.

Dave heard steps to his left side and swung, but Bro sidestepped and hit him in the back with the kashira of his katana for the hundredth time.

"Remember I told you not to expose your sides? And be conscious of your back. You really have gotten a little rusty haven't you?"

"Bro! I'm thirsty and tired. Can we just stop now?"

"Sorry little dude, not until you land at least one hit on me."

From his peripherals he saw Bro left then right, but to the left again. His brother's figure wavered back and forth in his vision and Dave had no idea where he would be next, so he started to swing his sword wildly. He didn't care what part of Bro it hit, he just wanted to relax.

Suddenly a hand gripped his wrist and squeezed hard. Dave's hand released its hold on the sword and it fell to the ground, clattering.

"Take it easy, I don't want you to accidentally throw the sword off the roof and hit somebody on the ground. We can't afford for that to happen. Literally."

Dave snapped. "All you do is hit me in the spine! I probably have a thousand little bruises covering my back now."

"Don't like it? Well, then I'll just get you from the front." He released his grip on Dave and jabbed the end of his katana into his ribs.

Dave hugged himself and fell to the ground. He didn't care anymore about losing or winning – he always lost anyways. His anger had changed into apathy. "Can I get a drink?"

"Dave, I'll be honest with you. You kinda nicked me in the shirt. See the little tear here on my sleeve? That happened about an hour ago. So yes, you can get your drinking you've been whining about."

Suddenly, Dave started to roll around on the roof top while Bro just watched him incredulously. He knew sure, Dave was only ten years old, but he had taught him to be cooler than this. _This is the reminiscent of childishness shining through_, Bro thought,_ I'll just let him have his moment until he realizes how stupid he looks._

It took a good minute until Dave stopped and turned his head to face Bro. "Are you serious? I had to keep going for another useless hour; you usually don't push me this hard. Is it because...?"

"Don't push it Dave."

"No, I want an answer," he pushed himself off the ground and walked up to Bro. "You've been hiding who he is from me. Kyle says he's your friend but you don't like to talk about him."

Bro took off his hat and ran a hand through his hair. "Listen, I can't really tell you who he is." _Or how I know him_.

"Oh... uh, is he your boyfriend or something? Embarrassed 'cause you're into _really_ older guys?"

"Aw hell no! Dave, don't even joke about that."

"Then I don't see why I have to leave when he's around. He's there when you're there-"

"Dave-"

"-so it's alright. I mean I know about stuff some ten year olds don't because of you-"

"Dave-"

"-it would be alright if I just kinda talked a bit, it's not like-"

In one second Dave was pushed against the beige brick of the rooftop entrance. Bro's hands pushed against his shoulders, pinning him in place – not like Dave would move, his heart beat fast with the looming thought of reprimand.

Bro hissed directly in his ear, "I'm not your _father_ Dave. But I still want you to listen to me." He could feel the sting of the words intertwined with the breath that glided over the side of his face. The words echoed in his brain and made his stomach turn.

Dave was trying not to focus on Bro. He looked at his red shoes, brown dirt scuffed around the edges and the laces a little frayed from running around with them on untied. He still didn't meet Bro's gaze when he said, "I thought our apartment was like the Batcave, y'know? Only certain people had access to it."

"Shows how little you know, kid." His words stung Dave again; he wanted to crawl under his bed sheets and disappear. "You can go now. But I don't want to see you when he's there."

He picked up both of their swords and left Dave on the rooftop alone. Dave hated being treated like his age - like a child. He knew more than the other kids in his class, especially about things they shouldn't know until they were teenagers.

"I'm a cool little brother," he said out loud. "Kyle thinks I'm like Bro, and he's allowed to be around Kyle."


	8. Chapter 8

The house had been void of conversation since both brothers had refused to talk to each other since the strife. Bro sat on his futon playing the Xbox, the only sound made was the clicking of the buttons and the low in-game music. Dave was off in his room playing with his turntables, typing to his new friends on Pesterchum, taking pictures with his camera, fiddling with the shuriken littering his floor – whatever he could to stave off boredom. There were only two people living in the apartment; when they refused to acknowledge each other there wasn't much else for Dave to do.

_I can just teach myself to use these,_ Dave thought as he played with a shuriken in his hand_, I don't need Bro to help me._ He turned it between his fingers and was about to throw it against one of his posters when suddenly he heard muffled knocks; the sound resonated through the apartment and carried into Dave's room. As quick and carefully as he could in the dark, he made his way to the door and cracked it open to listen.

"Hey, what's up?"

"Didn't know you'd be arriving this soon Kyle."

"Sorry, last time I had some errands to run and came late."

"It's fine," Bro said. Dave knew he was lying.

He heard the conversation move into the kitchen, and what started as small chitchat soon evolved. Dave didn't understand the conversation anymore, and Bro's demeaning words swam around in his head again, but this time they made sense. Dave wouldn't have understood who Kyle was if even if Bro tried to explain it, especially if he kept using weird lingo. And what the hell was _Plush Rump?_ He didn't even want to say the name in his mind, it sounded oddly lewd.

"I'm serious! You should expand the field of what your site has to offer!"

Bro scoffed. "Like what, horses?"

"Bro, where the hell are you going to find enough money for horses if you can't afford to keep your goddamn site afloat?"

"_Horses?_" Dave accidentally blurted out, and then he quickly covered his mouth with his hand as if it would catch the word back from the air.

"Dave?" Kyle said gingerly, "is that you?" Dave chose not to respond, but he continued nonetheless. "Come on out here, I brought some stuff for you."

Dave was slightly taken back, feeling strange to be given gifts from a man he had met for less than ten minutes. But as gifts weren't a commodity, curiosity got the better of him as the Strider shoestring budget was all he had known. He made his way into the kitchen area, and he could feel Bro's disapproving stare directed at him from behind his shades. If he didn't know him better, it would have looked like he was staring down the wall. Feeling unsettled looking at his brother, Dave turned his attention to Kyle, who had his hand placed onto a small stack of something on the counter.

"I read a lot of comic books when I was your age, so I thought you would appreciate something like this."

As he got closer, Kyle removed his hand and allowed Dave to pick the first one up. He flipped through it briefly, taking in snippets of dialogue and action. "Neat," was all Dave said before placing it neatly back on top of the pile.

"Do you like them?" Kyle asked.

"Yeah, they're pretty cool. It'll help me with my own comic."

Kyle grinned. "Dave, I didn't know you had such a big ambition for someone of your age! It's always good to get your creativity out."

"Well," he responded back, "it's not Picasso stuff, just a small comic on the computer. I can't get the right faces though. I was considering trying to make it look good, but I think stupid would be better. Y'know, like pork-choppy mouths." He tapped his index finger and thumb together hoping it would act as a visual aid.

Kyle didn't understand the gesture –Dave wasn't even sure if it helped himself, either - and laughed. "Well, I'm sure it'll turn out great. Maybe we could get to reading these for inspiration, huh?" Before he could pick up the comics Bro interrupted him.

"Hey, I don't know if you remember that I'm still here. And you remember _why _you're here too right?" Bro couldn't keep the slight slip of irritation out of his voice, his gaze moving from Dave to Kyle. His arms were crossed and he was leaning against the edge of the counter top.

Kyle tried to reason with him. "We can't continue with him here though, right? We might as well take a little break from this whole business for a bit can't we?"

"Sorry, but I can't wait three years and a day for an answer." He tried to add some humour into his statement - God knows he would never want to contact this man for that long - but his cool facade was slipping. Quickly.

Unfortunately Kyle didn't seem to catch on. "But don't you want to encourage your little brother here? Dave should be getting the opportunity to embrace his creative side. You know, not many kids these days care enough about art, being a niche artist yourself you _should_ know-"

"Kyle, shut up and quit fucking around." Bro left no room for argument, making Kyle and Dave freeze in place. While Kyle was too stunned to respond because he never believed a client would talk to him in such language, Dave on the other hand felt that while it wasn't his fault for Bro's sudden outburst – really, it was Kyle's insistence that pissed Bro off – it was still like he had done something wrong. In his a little portion of mind though, he knew he was partly responsible. For the second time that day, he had made Dave feel small.

"Well," was all Kyle could say, still slightly stunned, "I should at least give these to him?"

"No, I don't think we'll need those anytime soon."

"You're not seriously making your mind up for your brother, are you?"

"Yes I am. I'm his guardian and you and I have some unfinished business. Dave, go back to your room."

Instead of being obedient Dave asked, "Why?" That single word made Kyle bounce back up from Bro's intimidation, siding with the younger Strider sibling.

"Yeah, Bro – I mean, what's it gonna do to him? The comics aren't laced with poison, I've touched them myself." He swiped his index finger over the cover for emphasis. "See? Nothing here that can harm you."

Bro kept his arms crossed, nails digging into the skin on his arms. It took all his self-restraint to prevent his fist from breaking Kyle's nose. Instead, he voiced exactly what was on his mind. "You've seen my brother for less than ten minutes and offered him alcohol. Are your glasses fake? I don't know if you can see that he's ten years old."

"It was a joke. You seriously think I would give alcohol to a minor?"

"Yeah, I do. Why are you trying to give him something today too?"

"Because I'm a nice guy. That's what I am – a_ nice guy_."

Both men had raised their voices before Dave could try to input his own opinion into the matter, but he now chose to remain silent, hoping to slip back into his room unnoticed. A footstep backwards was the only action he took before Bro's head snapped in his direction. He froze in place, conscience a little heavy with the awareness that now he could put some of the fight's blame on himself for challenging Bro's authority. Dave had challenged it once before and the end result wasn't pretty. When he was still in first grade, he had asked Bro to help him find something cool to bring in for show-and-tell; when he had picked up a firework Bro gave a definite 'no,' but apparently it wasn't enough definite enough to stop him from sneaking it into his bag the next morning. When he received a phone call from school threatening to remove Dave from his care after he described what they sometimes did with the fireworks, he was furious. The only interaction he had given Dave that week was a severe scolding and an intense training session on the rooftop; everything else like placing out his dinner or driving him to school was done before Dave saw him do it or was in complete silence.

"I hope you're making your way back to bed."

"Yeah, I'm kind of tired now," he lied. Dave wasn't tired at all, but he wanted to get away.

"Darn shame," said Kyle, "but I guess kids your age need to sleep early." He reached over and smiled as he ruffled his blond hair. "Night, Dave."

"Yeah, later." He walked back to his room, fixing his hair along the way. He was surprised how they could suddenly act like nothing happened.

They were quiet, both men waiting to hear the door to Dave's room shut before speaking again. "Can we get back on topic now?" Bro said.

Unimpressed Kyle shot back, "Give me a reason."

"Well." Now that Dave was gone his mind had steered back into business instead of trying to remove his younger brother from the kitchen. Honestly, he didn't like Kyle and Bro was positive the feeling was mutual. As much as he would rather kick Kyle out the door, he currently saw him as a living wallet and he needed the money. There was a pause, and Kyle was sure that Bro couldn't think of anything that would keep him any longer in the apartment.

"That's what I thought," he said, and picked up the comics from the counter top. Every step he made to the door had Bro more and more panicked.

"Wait - I'm willing to take your offer." _Shit._

Even though Kyle was still pissed off, he stopped short of touching the doorknob. He turned to face Bro, a smirk on his face. "That desperate are we?"

He didn't want to give him the satisfaction of a 'yes' for a reply, but also saying 'no' would have Kyle continue on his way out. Instead of responding Bro held his gaze to the other man, but they both knew what it meant. Bro just didn't want to admit it.

Kyle raised his hands in the air as a sign of mock defeat. "Fine," he said, "you win. I'll come over tomorrow."

As much as he wanted to finish the deal right here and now, Bro realized he was currently at Kyle's beck and call. "Sure."

"Well now, I'm going to grab some late dinner. See you tomorrow."

For the second time before Kyle could put his hand on the door Bro said, "Wait."

Kyle turned to face him again. "Yes?"

"Twelve o'clock. The afternoon - sound good to you?"

"...Fine."

He finally opened the door and walked out. Bro could hear his footsteps slowly growing fainter the farther Kyle got. When they were completely gone he let out a long sigh and made his way to Dave's room. Honestly he wasn't very good at scolding or giving talks, he was better at physical punishment like extra training, or terrifying pranks that kept Dave in line but he knew that the current situation didn't call for those. When he got there, an unsurprised Bro found him still awake.

Dave was lying in bed already changed into his pajamas, a white t-shirt and red boxers and his shades were placed on the bedside table. He was staring at the ceiling tracing the small cracks with his eyes, and when the door opened his eyes left the ceiling and fixed upon his brother in the doorway.

"Hey," Bro said.

"Yeah?"

"I just came in to see how you were doing. You have school tomorrow so I want you to sleep."

"I know." Dave said, and after a pause he continued, "I just find it hard to sleep right now."

"Why?" He asked, though he already anticipated the reason.

"I've just been thinking about Kyle-"

"Oh Jesus Christ, Dave. I was hoping you'd let that up after seeing him again today."

"No no - not what you're thinking. I find him kinda... weird."

"I also find him kind of a douche."

Dave snorted and sat up on his bed. "You're right though. I don't want to see him again. His hand felt weird on my head for some reason. I mean c'mon dude, don't ruin the Striderdo."

Bro chuckled from amusement, but mostly from thanking whatever deity floated above them that he didn't need to have an awkward conversation to keep Dave away. "When you put some actual effort into your hair you can say that," he said.

Dave shrugged. "Fair enough. But seriously I was prepared for you to yell at me."

Bro lost his mirth. "I actually did come here to tell you off, you know. I don't want you around when he's here, but I think you get the point now. That weirdness you just felt today? I felt it the first time I talked to the guy on the phone. Creeper, Dave; the guy's a total creep. S'why I want you to pack a whistle before you head on out tomorrow 'kay?"

"Wait, what. Are you serious?"

"No, you tool. I'm not entirely serious. But I want you to be careful nonetheless."

"I'm not gonna see him again, am I?" Dave grimaced.

"Nah, I asked him over at a time you'd be at school. I'm hoping to finish this quick before I run a sword through him."

Dave motioned to the countless swords currently littering his floor. "Pick one."

"Heh, I'm raising a little killer. Go to sleep now Dave."

Before he shut the door Dave called out, "Hey Bro?"

"Yeah?"

"Did you keep the comic books?"

"Okay buddy," Bro drawled.

"Oh crud. I wanted to use them for reference."

"Hey, what do I keep telling you –"

"I _didn't_, I said crud."

"Oh." Short pause.

"Night."

"Yeah, night."

Bro shut the door and Dave heard him flick the lights off.


	9. Chapter 9

It was the slam of the front door that woke Bro.

He jolted up from his futon, accidentally kicking a smuppet at his feet to the floor in the process. Though he felt himself knock it down, he was too dazed to care and instead faced the door. The knob rattled as it was opened again and Dave poked his head through the entrance.

"Oh," Dave said, "guess I did wake you up. Sorry, didn't mean to slam it."

"_Damn_, that was loud as hell."

"Count it as luck that I woke you up. Usually you take forever to get out of bed."

Ignoring the comment Bro said, "No one's meant to feel adrenaline this early in the morning."

"Good morning to you too. I have to go now or I'll be late, I slept in a bit." This time he closed the door much softer, albeit too late considering Bro was now unwillingly awake. With a sigh, he looked around the room.

The early morning sun filtered through the curtain slats, making the apartment much brighter and vibrant than any artificial bulb could. Lil' Cal was draped over the metal armrest of the bed's supporting frame; his orange arms were flopped lazily to its sides, body lopsided against the back of the futon. The golden medallion around his neck shone just as brilliantly as the single gold tooth in his grin. The smuppet on the floor looked much brighter caught in the natural light and with a wry smile, Bro nudged it with his foot. Everything looked much more alive when it was the morning, compared to the late afternoon when he usually awoke.

"Fuck it," he said to himself, deciding if he was up he might as well just keep it that way.

He slowly slid off the futon and made his way to the bathroom. As he was passing through the kitchen he glanced at the time on the microwave displaying that it was half past eight. Bro thought it was a disgustingly early time and wondered how Dave could wake by himself without assistance.

His daily routine followed an order: first he would gaze at himself in the mirror noting whether or not he would have to shave. Second, he would brush his teeth then ditch his clothes on the floor and take a shower; he would put them into a basket later. Last, he would finish off by changing into some clean clothes. Today he wore a black zip-up hoodie over one of his numerous white shirts and his last remaining pair of clean jeans, telling himself to do the laundry soon.

Now fully awake he stepped out the bathroom and straight to the door without bothering to check if there was food in the fridge, knowing for a fact that there was currently nothing but swords residing inside. With nothing to eat, Bro decided to head outside and grab something quick. He knew Dave had gone to school without breakfast, but checking inside his wallet Bro at least knew the kid had money to buy himself lunch, noting that a few small bills were missing.

Making his way down to the ground floor Bro opted out of the elevator and took the stairs, being in no mood to encounter strangers in another enclosed space besides his kitchen. Besides, there was this petite woman who wore too much make up and dyed black hair that lived on the same floor as he did, making their elevator rides together quite frequent. She would always try to chat with him and give suggestive invitations back to her place. Bro would not be surprised if he wasn't the first or last one who made it to her bedroom. Even though he was genuinely uninterested and expressed such an attitude, she always tried. He had to give her credit for persistence, but that was the extent of how much he thought of her. Right now, the idea of exchanging empty greetings was on par with shrugging off advances.

In the lobby, he wasted no time pushing through the glass front entrance and into the early chill of the city, glad that he decided to wear a light sweater as he made his way down the street. The heat of the afternoon was still some odd hours away, and Bro would be waiting in his apartment by then. The morning was filled with the tapping dress shoes of men and clicking heels of women all scurrying into the tall, grey buildings covering the area. There were also students who were much more colorfully dressed and individual, walking against the flow of workers to get to classes.

Considering where to get breakfast, he knew not to go to the little café at the street corner. First of all, it was too busy and always filled with people. Second, he wasn't about to pay twice the cash for a small drink he couldn't pronounce the name of. If people thought that coffee names in foreign languages made them taste better, he could live with that; the coffee probably did taste different. But if people thought that pronouncing or memorizing these names correctly made them feel sophisticated, he thought they should reconsider their major in liberal arts. Deciding the cheapest place would be a chain restaurant, Bro made his way across the street.

The lineup inside was long, reaching from the front to the back of the store where Bro currently stood. He could hear the cashier calling out for the next person in line and raising her hand in the air as a signal. Soon he found himself at the front.

"Next!" The blonde cashier waved him over. "What can I get you?"

"Just a bagel please."

He handed her the money and parted with a 'thanks' after receiving his order, finishing it quickly. Now faced with a few hours to kill, he chose to simply wander around until it was time to head back. But walking around the city didn't provide the comfort he needed as he would constantly check the time on his watch, thinking only of Kyle's arrival which caused him to become anxious. Walking without aim cleared his mind, Bro thought maybe it cleared his mind a little _too_ much, and he desperately needed a distraction - something that would help him to focus on the now.

So he stopped by his favourite record store.

They had to change locations due to a freak accident that destroyed the previous establishment, but it was still his first choice even if he had to walk a farther distance; the management and the atmosphere was as if it had never moved at all. When he walked inside, the wind chimes attached to the entrance alerted the man working to his presence. Bro saw him take a peak from the top of the magazine he was reading and a look of recognition crossed his face.

"Hey man, how you doin'? Haven't seen you in a while," he said to Bro. His hair was black and mussed, hands now holding both sides of his relaxed, grinning face up as he leaned over the counter with his elbows as supports.

"Yeah, I haven't had the time to drop by but I'm still alive. How 'bout you?"

His grin became wider. "I'm feeling great. In fact, something just _told_ me you'd drop by today. The seagulls started pecking at the window while I was eating a hotdog and I just suddenly thought about you. Isn't that weird?"

"Words of advice - lay off the weed. What if the boss finds you smoking it up during your shift?"

"Dude," he said, twirling his hair around a finger. "I _am _the boss."

Bro smiled. "You are such a stereotype."

"And you love me, baby."

He picked up the magazine and resumed reading while Bro made his way to the back of the store. He passed by old records on one side stacked against the wall and CDs in rows on another. There was a cardboard stand displaying employee recommendations and a brimming bargain bin. He had been here enough times to know where everything was as he located the turntables, which were placed neatly on old wooden tables.

The selection was small, but in good condition. Some of the used ones could still play like brand new, the owner fixing and maintaining every item he received. Bro stood there comparing the prices and reading about the features. Bro wouldn't get him something with too many functions, and he wouldn't invest in something worth more than his own at home. Dave was only a beginner. When he finalizes the deal with Kyle he didn't think Dave would mind if he still bought them second-hand, as there was a steep price difference between the new and the used models.

The sudden thought of Kyle made him frown. He was trying to avoid thinking about him by coming into the store, and yet he was permeating everything without even needing a physical presence. He couldn't wait to kick the man out from his life and everything that was a part of it like puppets and his apartment and his little brother. The turntables were just another aspect Kyle had ruined, and Bro dropped the price tag from his hand, letting it hang limp on the string it was attached to. He needed another diversion, something completely unrelated to himself.

He found it in the bargain bin, shuffling through the CDs carelessly thrown inside. Bro looked at the cellophane wrapping the albums, each with sticker upon a sticker reducing the price until it found itself in the glorified garbage pile. Pop idols with careers that came to a crashing halt after confirmed scandals, artists of one-hit wonders everyone could sing but none could name; many of the repeated albums inside were of these kinds. He carefully peeled back a sticker that read '4.99', and smoothed it down when he saw what was underneath. He was amazed at how someone's creativity could go from bordering the higher or lower end of twenty dollars to being worth about half a dozen donuts. And the next time Bro looked glanced at his watch, he was taken aback by how much time one could spend looking through the bin.

It was almost eleven o'clock, with the last half an hour flying by unnoticed. It would take him almost half an hour to reach his building from here, and decided that to leave now and wait at home would be better than being late even by a minute.

The man looked up from reading again when he saw Bro approaching. "Leaving so soon?"

"Gotta meet with someone today."

"Are you cheating on me?"

"No, but your boyfriend would be angry if he knew you were cheating with me."

"I don't have a boyfriend."

"Dude or chica, who'd ever wanna date you?"

He laughed. "Get out of here, jackass. And don't come back until you plan on buying something!"

The wind chime sounded again as he stepped outside. Bro was feeling calmer, and was walking down the street with more confidence in his stride. He even spared a dollar to the homeless man he passed by in hopes that karma would come back to him.

In what felt like no time at all, he was back in his room lying down on the bed as if it was the morning again. The sweater he wore was draped over the back of the futon, his shades and cap placed on his computer desk. There was forty minutes left until it was twelve o'clock. He covered his eyes with his forearm to block out the light in an attempt to rest, the venture outside fulfilling but exhausting. Slowly, his arm slacked away from his face without him even realizing, draping over the edge of the futon. His breathing became even, chest slowly rising then falling. And Bro was asleep.

Until he heard knocks.

He cracked his eyes open and bolted up at once. _The second time today_, he thought. Bro checked his watch and was surprised that it was already noon, not feeling as invigorated as he had hoped the sleep would do for him. Suddenly the knocking came back again, reminding him that there was someone waiting, and he jump up from his futon toward the door. The sliding noise of the locks made Kyle quiet down on the opposite side. Bro suddenly remembered he wasn't wearing his shades or hat and made a quick grab, putting them on.

"Hi," Bro said simply when he opened the door. He was cautious to keep the tired tone out from his voice.

Kyle spared him a brief glance before stepping past the threshold and heading straight to the kitchen area, not bothering with an acknowledgement. Bro noticed the slight but instead of offended he smirked, amused that he managed to make Kyle hate him that much. He closed the door then followed the older man, noticing that there was a small envelope in Kyle's hands. Plain, regular and manila, it wasn't sealed and Bro could see the top of papers peeking out from the opening. He decided to break the silence.

"Do you want water or anything?"

"I'm fine," Kyle replied curtly, "let's just get this over with." He pulled the papers, stapled together neatly at the corner, and a black pen from the envelope, placing it on the counter and sliding them closer to Bro.

"You didn't seem like the kind of guy to be having paper work, thought you'd just hand me the money or something."

"Paper work is needed for everything. Did you sign something to get this apartment? Of course you did. It's just extra precautions in case something goes awry."

"Guess so," Bro agreed and picked up the pen, skimming through what was written down. The text was concise with very little jargon – none that he didn't know the meaning of – when something caught his eye. "Hey, something's wrong here."

"What is it?"

"It says I'll give up half of the subscription costs to you, not the thirty you said last time." He handed the papers to Kyle's outstretched hand.

Kyle seemed to read it through before replying, "Looks like I made a typo." He took the pen from Bro and crossed out the number, replacing it with '30%' before he gave it back. "I think you'll find the rest of the terms agreeable."

Bro responded, "Not entirely, when the hell did I ever say I was going to join an affiliate program?"

"You can get much more traffic if you do, and more traffic means more money. Stop being a lone wolf. If you can get an ad on more sites people would remember it. In their heightened state I think they could use a novel idea to get their rocks off – I mean, how are you going to find such underground porn anyway?"

"Whatever you searched seemed to work," Bro said offhandedly.

"Fuck you Strider."

He couldn't help but be unpleasant. "Why so defensive?"

"Because you have no tact. What I do is my own damn business–"

In mid-sentence a vibration, then a twinkling little tune sounded. Distracted, they both looked down at Kyle's pocket. He fished it out, taking a glance at the number on his screen before he said, "Hold on," and walked away in the direction of a corner to seclude Bro. The word 'hello' was the only thing said clearly before Kyle took up a hushed tone. Bro continued to stare at the papers, tapping at them lightly with the end of the pen only pretending to be distracted as he listened.

"No, of course not," he mumbled low into the phone, "I'm only here for a couple more days. I'll be able to make it, don't worry... yes... no, of course not it's just another business trip... trust me, I can. Alright... I love you too. And tell Kayla to sleep tight tonight."

_Family man,_ Bro thought.

He turned off his phone and stuffed it into his pocket before making his way back to Bro, who still appeared concentrated. Kyle seemed to have forgotten his anger as he said, "Sorry, person got the wrong number."

Playing along, he nodded in an understanding way. "I get that all the time."

"Yeah... now where were we? Right. I understand that you would not be object to better equipment – which I can provide you."

"Of course," He replied, careful not to get smart with him again.

"If I provided better cameras and paid for a website design overhaul too, then I want a bigger share of the ownership."

"Which is something I have an issue with. If I let you continue any further you're just gonna own most of the business."

"Maybe."

"Then what am I signing for?"

"Because you agreed to last night."

"No," Bro said as he put down the pen and papers. "I didn't agree to this."

Without hesitation, Kyle grabbed the manila envelope and turned it upside down, a stack of bills contained together with a single elastic band falling to the counter top. Kyle gave a nod to pick it up, and Bro quickly leafed through them, realizing the number on each bill staying the same. They were all hundreds.

"Right now in your hands is ten thousand dollars. I understand you need a bit more help to keep the site, so there it is. I am offering you upgrades, all paid from my own pocket. If me asking for a little more in return is selfish, you know what I think you're being, by keeping everything to yourself?"

He put the money back down. "I'm not being greedy; I'm not asking for more, you're just giving it to me. What I thought I was signing for was to get the money, give you a portion of the subscriptions and part ownership until I could pay you back. I didn't know about anything else until just a few minutes ago."

Kyle leaned over the counter top and looked directly at Bro, trying to get past his shades and to his eyes. "Why I'm asking for so much - as you put it – is because I see where this can go. This can be the next big thing. You could be raking in _thousands_. And to make this work you need my help."

"Not like this."

"Sign the papers and I guarantee you will see why I wrote in what I did."

"I want what I agreed to, none of the fancy stuff."

Bro's shoulders were tense as he watched his face for a sign of expression, but he only seemed to be lost in thought as he retreated back and hung his head, looking down at his own shoes, white and scuffed, mulling over the ultimatum Bro had given him. He wondered just how long he could push his luck. He was probably thinking of the gall he had to demand the original terms, even though it was Kyle who was supposed to be making the calls; Bro was supposed to need _him_, not the other way around. But just then Kyle let out a deep sigh, adjusting his glasses further up the bridge of his nose as he asked, "Is that really what you want?"

"Yes," he said firmly.

A moment's silence pervaded the room.

"Alright," he said, "give me those."

Bro slid the papers toward him and Kyle picked up the pen, beginning to flip through the pages, crossing out lines of text and writing new phrases around certain areas. Meanwhile, Bro began drumming his fingers against the counter top with nothing better to do as the other man worked. His shoulders relaxed, a frustrating weight being lifted from his mind and body; yet it still lingered, waiting to settle back down at any opportunity. While relieved, he wondered why he was being so compliant.

Kyle spoke up as he wrote. "Quiet today, huh?"

"I guess."

"No interruptions for once."

"Yeah."

He gave a short nod in response, waiting for Bro to continue, but was met with only more silence except the rhythm Bro was tapping on the counter, and the sound of his own scribbling pen. Kyle took the initiative to push the conversation further. "So... where's Dave?"

"You know. Around," Bro replied defensively.

"You don't know where he is?"

"Just around."

"You let a kid run around by himself on the streets?"

"Of course not."

"So you know where he is."

"Just probably sleeping."

"Dave doesn't go to school?"

"That's why."

"Ah. I see." Another quiet spell entered the room for a minute before Kyle scribbled something quick at the bottom of the last page, and finished off with a flourish. "And now this is finally finished."

Bro took the papers, paying attention to the handwritten phrases in lieu of the typed sentences. He nodded as he read so Kyle could see that he agreed with the new terms.

"Sounds about right," Bro verified, motioning for the pen.

Kyle outstretched his hand, hesitated, and then drew it back. Bro, giving him a confused look, was about to open his mouth to speak when other man beat him to it.

"Are you sure you want to sign this?"

"...Yeah?"

"But it looks like I graded a ninth grade essay. Here - give it back to me, tomorrow I'll be back with a clean, printed copy."

"I'm fine with it. As long as it says everything I need I'm fine if it's even covered in bird shi-"

"No, no. I'll have a good copy for tomorrow. I work in business you know, it just doesn't feel natural to have a contract so scribbly."

"Honestly, this is okay."

"No, it isn't." Kyle snatched the papers from Bro's hand. If he hadn't been wearing gloves, Bro was positive he would've received a paper cut.

"What the hell are you doing?" Bro asked as he saw him stuff the papers away back into the manila envelope.

"Just putting my stuff away is all," Kyle replied as picked up the money and pen from the counter, putting them into the envelope.

"I said it's fine. Just give me the papers back and we can finish this right now."

"I told you didn't I? I'm a business man. These need to be done right. I'll be over tomorrow."

When Kyle took the first step toward the door, Bro quickly stood in front of him and used his size to his advantage. Though both men were around the same height, Bro had muscle; Kyle didn't. It made him look more intimidating, like a lion against a gazelle. He could see the wary glint in Kyle's eyes though his face didn't betray how he felt inside.

"Move aside Strider," he said calmly.

"Just give me the papers."

"I told you, I'll give them to you tomorrow."

"Let me sign them now."

"I said tomorrow."

"Kyle-"

"Strider," he interrupted, "you're crossing a _very_ dangerous line. Don't think I've forgotten what you've said to me, _about me_ - for a minute. I could have left you flat on your ass, but I listened to what you had to say, and about what you wanted. I rolled over and said yes. I came back after you begged me to, I even changed the agreement so you could get the most out of this offer. Now move out of the _fucking_ way before you completely lose all of my patience and all of my money."

For a tense moment Bro stood still, defiant against Kyle's wishes. They stared straight at the other. No one breathed. No one moved. But then he gave in first by sighing deeply, then he slowly stepped to the side, defeated. There was no winning smile, no insult thrown his way as Kyle walked to the door and opened it.

Facing the hallway Kyle said, "I'm busy tomorrow. Expect me later."

Then he stepped out and closed the door.

* * *

**A/N:** So I wasn't planning on putting any author's notes until the _very_ end of this piece, but I'm actually quite surprised by the reception to my first upload that I'll insert this here.

Thank you for reading, even if the beginning chapters are only a couple hundred words long. I had no idea until it was uploaded that the first 6/7 chapters would be so short until I saw it visually here. This wasn't intended to be long to begin with.

Thank you for not dismissing this story because of the OC or the content. I'm quite amazed I'm not being carted off by the police right now, heh.

And thank you for the feedback anons, and to the people who have favourited and followed this story though I'm terrible with updates. Which is something I wanted to get to.

I usually don't like to point out the flaws in my story because if someone ever went back to it, I don't want to ruin their perception. But this chapter was very hard for me to write, _and therefore took a long time to get out_, because I wanted to branch out of their room and actually show they live somewhere in time and in space, not just building X. It became longer than I think it should be, and the flow, personally, is more choppy due to that. If I wanted to put everything in it would've been a 9k or so chapter, which I don't think anybody wants to read 9k of Bro walking around town aimlessly. But if I excluded Bro going about town, then I also feel I would have no base. So I apologize if you too realized this chapter was kinda fast feeling.

And if anyone actually reads these, apologies for the AN being so long.

**Critique is always welcome - it's okay to point out grammatical flaws and how my writing should improve.**

I'm usually up at 3am writing these chapters anyways.


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